Page 64 of Warrior
The ship gave a low groan and shuddered, one final heavy thud heralding our arrival on the Bardaga. The massive battle cruiser came into sight a few minutes ago, making the children gasp with awe. I hadn’t cared to look, even when the jerk of the Bardaga’s tractor beam grabbed our small ship.
I couldn’t leave him.
Not yet.
I feared I wouldn't survive if I removed my grip from his hand. Crazy, but that’s how I felt. When Gavin died, I wondered how I would move on without him. With Daicon, I couldn’t see past this moment, as though my future did not exist in a universe without him.
“Kida?”
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I glanced at Ewok, the fleshly portions of his teddy bear face as red and swelled as my own.
“Kida, they wait for us to disembark.”
My gaze flickered from Ewok to Daicon. My love lay like an effigy. A Greek god carved from stone, the tawny mane lyingover his shoulders in thick waves. The thought of leaving his side caused a drowning swell of grief and fear.
“We… we can’t leave him.”
“We won’t, kida.” Ewok squeezed my shoulder gently.
At his words, I heard the shuffle of little feet surround me.
“We will take him, kida,” Cuietsu said in a voice hoarse from crying.
“The younglings wish to show him respect,” George said, stepping nearer. His eyes weren’t red, but a deep dark blue, swollen and aching. “They will carry the warrior on this final leg of his journey.”
I wanted to argue. Daicon was huge, almost seven feet tall. How could a group of children, most half my size, carry him? Yet the small bodies crowded around the bed, grief, and determination etched on their faces.
I felt Ewok’s fingers close over my hand, gently but firmly pulling my grip from Daicon. I wanted to scream at him to stop that I couldn’t let him go, but before the words burst from my mouth, a fissure of cool air slithered between my hand and Daicon's. My breath felt like fire in my lungs, and my stomach rolled. I survived, but the pain in my heart was unbearable.
Ewok’s furry hand gripped my fingers as tightly as I’d held on to Daicon. On my other side, George's cool fingers wrapped around my own.
“We must go, kida.”
George reached over, flicking the gravity switch on the bed. It was a remarkable piece of technology. The bed floated, rising and falling at the whim of the occupant or healer. There was a whoosh and groan as the device lost buoyancy, and every child bore the weight of the man who died to protect them.
The children moved toward the doorway, feet shuffling under the weight they carried. Daicon was heavy, but no one made a sound. With Ewok and George by my side, hands claspedtightly in mine, we waited for the huff and groan of the ramp descending.
Four Vaktaire awaited.
They were large, like Daicon, tall and heavily muscled. Warriors. The one in front was a smidge larger than the rest. He stood tall and straight, bright golden eyes following our movements. His outfit was the same as Daicon wore. Leather-like pants, black boots, and a sleeveless black vest stretched taut across his chest. Hair hung over his shoulder, thick like Daicon's, but black and straight. The others wore something leaning more toward a uniform. Pants, sleeveless double-breasted tunics, and boots. Each wore his hair in braids of differing lengths.
As the children approached the ramp's end, each of the men bowed their heads. The largest male stepped forward and thumped his chest in a salute.
"Your reverence is noted, little ones." He stepped forward, hand reaching to flip on the bed's gravity field, and a faint hum filled the air. "You have paid our war chief a great honor."
The little ones relaxed their grip on the bed, but none moved away. The big guy gazed down at Daicon, his gold and cobalt gaze flickering with sadness. He motioned to one of his comrades, and the shortest man stepped forward. While he dressed in the same style as the others, his pants and tunic were in a shade of beige instead of deep navy. His eyes held the same cobalt sclera, but the golden irises were ochre instead of golden. His long fingers flickered over Daicon's body, touching pulse points. When he looked up at the larger man and shook his head, I nearly bit my tongue in half to keep from sobbing.
In a deliberate movement, George let go of my hand, stepped forward, bending to one knee, and bowed his head.
“I am sorry, my lord Chieftain. I did everything I could for him.”
The large man—the Chieftain—stepped away from Daicon's side, laying a hand on George's frail shoulder. A gentle touch.
“You did well for one so young.” His voice was deep and authoritative as he drew George to his feet. "His death is not yours to bear."
The Chieftain's golden gaze met mine, and the empathy reflected on his handsome face stole my breath.
“My name is Khaion, Chieftain of the Bardaga. Welcome. It is our honor to care for you as Daicon would have.”
